[Memories of Charles Stewart Walsh by his daughter Sister Mary Blanche R.S.M. (Blanche Elizabeth Walsh), and compiled by P.W. Walsh (Pol Breatnach) in the 1989 Walsh Booklet]

Charles was the youngest of a family of ten boys and two girls born to Mary Houck and Michael Walsh. He was only 15 at the time of his father's death, but he willingly took on full time farming, ending his formal education. Charles did not receive the high school and college education that was given to his older brothers and sisters, but he was a self-educated man.

Charles married Minnie Louise Woolery on February 19, 1908. They lived in Carroll County where their first five children, Charles, Mary, Rose, Blanche, and Catherine were born. In 1916, they bought a farm on Deer Park Road in Baltimore County, Maryland, where they were blessed with four more children (Ruth, Margaret, Edith, and Ethel).

There were always two or more live-in farm hands, plus many other farm hands to be fed. Minnie didn't get much kitchen help from her daughters because they were farm hands before and after school, on weekends, and during the summer months. Minnie did her share of farm work too.

On March 31, 1923, Holy Saturday, the house, barn, and everything in them burned to the ground. Again in 1935 the barn with all the live stock was destroyed by fire. Each time there was a set back; Charles, Minnie and family began all over again. Deep faith and mutual support kept them going.

Charles lived, worked, and prayed with an open, inquisitive mind. During the years his daughters were in school at Franklin High, he was consulted and provided practical information to teachers in shop, science, and agriculture. For example: he set up a full project on care of eggs, hatching of chicks, etc., for the science teacher. Fifty years later Mr. Seabold recalled the incident with enjoyment and praise. He taught several of Charles' children during their high school years.

After finishing high school and years on the farm and/or the business world, one by one five girls married and three girls entered the Sisters of Mercy Novitiate. Charles Joseph, the only boy, gave many years to the U.S. Army before marrying.

Charles was a constant peacemaker in the neighborhood and a good neighbor at all times. When the young, or not so young, were in trouble or in need, they knew they could come to Charles and he would give the last penny and every minute of his time to help solve problems.

Charles being a militant Roman Catholic, he and his family often received threats from the KKK. He went right to the men when they were out of their hoods and talked it out.

The farm truck became a church bus every Sunday as Charles transported children and a few adults from Deer Park to morning mass and afternoon Sunday school. If a flat tire or the like meant late arrival of the truck for the 3:00 PM Sunday School, the church bell didn't ring until Walsh's truck, with kids hanging out all sides, came over the hill.

If there was a baseball game at a school, church or family gathering, Charles was a part of it, and he was welcome on any team for his sportsmanship, running ability, etc.

Much more could be said about this great gentleman, but you will have to learn it from his daughters. Hurry--they are growing older and older.

Charles died of a heart attack on February 4, 1942 and was laid to rest in Holy Family Cemetery, Liberty Road, Randallstown, Maryland.

[Memories of Charles Stewart Walsh by his granddaughter, Catherine Canisia Scheper Douglass - September 5, 2001]

Although my grandfather, Charles Stewart Walsh, died several weeks before my fourth birthday, I remember him vividly. When we made the long trek from East Baltimore to Reisterstown, Grandpop welcomed us with smiles and hugs. He would hold me on his lap and made me feel special and loved. Going to the farm to visit my grandparents was a magical time. Mom and I would talk about the farm and look forward to the visits. Helping to gather eggs made me feel so grownup! Grandmom would take me to the cellar to get apples and potatoes from the bins. As we lived in the city, our family doctor insisted that the water on the farm be boiled before I drank it. I remember Grandmom saying she had raised her entire family on well water, but she always put the kettle on for me. We arrived in the midst of a snowstorm one weekend and Grandpop carried me to the house while Dad tried to get the car out of a snowdrift. He put me on a chair in front of the stove with my feet on the oven door and Grandmom started boiling water!

We were living in a small, second floor apartment on Elwood Avenue in Baltimore, when a messenger from the corner drugstore came to tell Mom she had a phone call. Mom and I walked to the drugstore with her holding my hand tightly. She answered the telephone to hear that her father had died. The shock of that phone call remained with her all of her life. She missed her father until the day she died. For many years during my childhood I would sit in Holy Family Church and pray for my grandfather to come back. I was sure he would walk into church and sit with us. He came to me instead with the spirit of love and gentleness that was my mother.